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16
ODE TO THE MUSE.
Spirit of Heaven, immortal Child,
On whom the great Creator smiled,
Before the date of time!
When Man's new race was call'd to birth,
He bade thee seek the sons of earth,
And teach the thought sublime.
On whom the great Creator smiled,
Before the date of time!
When Man's new race was call'd to birth,
He bade thee seek the sons of earth,
And teach the thought sublime.
But ah, to few of all the race
Was granted the surpassing grace,
To know the heaven-begot:
Save those, the warm of heart and mind,
The rest beheld thee, and were blind;
They heard, and own'd thee not.
Was granted the surpassing grace,
To know the heaven-begot:
Save those, the warm of heart and mind,
The rest beheld thee, and were blind;
They heard, and own'd thee not.
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In vain thy glorious voice they heard;
No waken'd pulse within them stirr'd
A tremulous delight:
With dull regard they pass'd thee by,
They saw thy wild prophetic eye,
And wonder'd at the sight.
No waken'd pulse within them stirr'd
A tremulous delight:
With dull regard they pass'd thee by,
They saw thy wild prophetic eye,
And wonder'd at the sight.
Not the supreme in power and pride,
The rich, the great, the high-allied,
Thy choicest boons have blest:
O generous Muse, through every age,
Thy gifts have sooth'd, on sorrow's stage,
The poor and the opprest.
The rich, the great, the high-allied,
Thy choicest boons have blest:
O generous Muse, through every age,
Thy gifts have sooth'd, on sorrow's stage,
The poor and the opprest.
Angel of light, the spell is thine
That lifts with raptures all divine
Coy Nature's lowliest child:
In spite of penury and scorn,
For Him is Fancy's sweetest morn,
Dear Nurse of visions wild!
That lifts with raptures all divine
Coy Nature's lowliest child:
In spite of penury and scorn,
For Him is Fancy's sweetest morn,
Dear Nurse of visions wild!
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Or if, when Pride so high aspires,
Thy Torch some subtile Spirit fires
In Rank or Fortune's throng,
How shines the Ore, how beams the Crest,
In the majestic splendor drest
Of Genius and of Song!
Thy Torch some subtile Spirit fires
In Rank or Fortune's throng,
How shines the Ore, how beams the Crest,
In the majestic splendor drest
Of Genius and of Song!
O many a Soul of feeble power
Oft dares, in hope's delusive hour,
To linger o'er that Torch:—-
Alas! 'tis an enchanted light;
It's flames ascend with Souls of might:
The Weak they vainly scorch.
Oft dares, in hope's delusive hour,
To linger o'er that Torch:—-
Alas! 'tis an enchanted light;
It's flames ascend with Souls of might:
The Weak they vainly scorch.
Yet e'en the Weak may not despair:
Thou canst not quite reject the prayer
Of Him that loves Thee well:
His hand whose skill thy Harp disowns
May sometimes wake imperfect tones
From Love or Pity's Shell.
Thou canst not quite reject the prayer
Of Him that loves Thee well:
His hand whose skill thy Harp disowns
May sometimes wake imperfect tones
From Love or Pity's Shell.
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Oft from his couch of cloudy dreams
He springs with dawn's congenial gleams
To drink the youthful air;
And, wandering through the twilight dews,
In some lone spot he meets thee, Muse,
And then forgets his care.
He springs with dawn's congenial gleams
To drink the youthful air;
And, wandering through the twilight dews,
In some lone spot he meets thee, Muse,
And then forgets his care.
Where virgin roses chastely blush,
While solemn-sounding waters rush
To kiss thy buskin'd feet,
Lull'd with the fragrance and the sound,
He finds thee wrapt in thought profound,
On some romantic seat.
While solemn-sounding waters rush
To kiss thy buskin'd feet,
Lull'd with the fragrance and the sound,
He finds thee wrapt in thought profound,
On some romantic seat.
He knows thee by thine eye inspired,
And by thy stedfast brow, attired
In myrtle's lyric crown,
And by thy wings of stainless white,
That seem prepared for upward flight,
To waft him to renown.
And by thy stedfast brow, attired
In myrtle's lyric crown,
And by thy wings of stainless white,
That seem prepared for upward flight,
To waft him to renown.
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He knows thee by his panting breast,
That throbs with wishes unexprest,
With wishes scarce defined;
And by the thoughts of deep emotion,
That flow, like troubled waves of ocean,
Tumultuous on his mind.
That throbs with wishes unexprest,
With wishes scarce defined;
And by the thoughts of deep emotion,
That flow, like troubled waves of ocean,
Tumultuous on his mind.
O might he from those Wings presume
To snatch but one etherial plume,
To trace the verse of flame;
Or from that Crown purloin away
One little amaranthine spray
Of poetry and fame!
To snatch but one etherial plume,
To trace the verse of flame;
Or from that Crown purloin away
One little amaranthine spray
Of poetry and fame!
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